


Fen'Harel and the Maiden

by QueenSoledad



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6085110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSoledad/pseuds/QueenSoledad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Solavellan Hades and Persephone. Flufftastic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fen'Harel and the Maiden

Once, the Enavuris Sylaise, who was very powerful, beautiful, and grand, ruled over a great kingdom. Her lands were eternally plentiful, warm, and bright, and her people rejoiced in their copious crops and wealth. Their gratitude to the merciful goddess was endless, for it was by her grace that their land stayed so green.

Among her many servants was a young maiden, called Morinthe. She was bright eyed, elegant, and sun-kissed, and like the stunning flowers she tended in the goddess’s garden, Sylaise adored and treasured her. The maiden was barred from straying beyond the boundaries the of the goddess’ lands, and the Sylaise, of course, was very selective in who she allowed near her.

Unbeknownst to the goddess, however, there was more to the Morinthe than her soft smiles and grace. She was a curious and inquisitive girl, and hers was a heart that longed to explore. Her hunger could not be sated by books and secondhand stories, in time. Even the goddess’s great libraries had only so much they could offer her, and she knew that there had to be more stories in the world. Very soon, she became determined to seek them out for herself, wherever they may lie.

And so, the maiden asked the goddess if she may, perhaps, wander beyond the borders of her kingdom. The goddess was silent for a while before she smiled, dripping with sweetness. 

Sylaise cooed, “Oh, silly girl, but what would you do in such a world? The lands outside my kingdom are harsh, barren, and plagued by disease. Brigands scout the roads and attack any unlucky fool they may find there. No, my child, you would be safer here where I can protect you.”

Morinthe was saddened by her lady’s answer, but she did not complain. Sylaise was generous, after all, and she should be nothing but grateful for her endless patience and compassion. These were the words she knew by heart, taught to her since she was small, and they were what she said and thought. In her spirit, however, the maiden grew bitter and irritable.

The great walls that surrounded Sylaise’s lands, which had once been a comfort to her, now seemed like a chokehold. The gardens, where once she’d danced and sung, ceased to interest her, no more beautiful in her eyes than a jungle of thorns and brambles. She did not smile or laugh, for the kind words of the goddess and her flock felt like stabs. They threw praise upon every single hair upon her head, but not for mind within it. The maiden grew tired of being dismissed like a witless child.

One evening, Morinthe snuck away beneath the veil of darkness. She did so quite fearfully, for she had been told since she was small not to wander out at night. The darkness was not a friend to Sylaise, and was teeming with twisted creatures. Despite the internalized terror, the maiden struck out anyway. Because she was a rather clever girl, she’d rationalized that the rest of her kingdom would be hiding away inside of their homes. She would be free to make her way to the walls and, perhaps, discover some flaw in them.

This was easier said than done, however. They went on longer than she’d anticipated, and as far and wide as she looked there were no holes or gaps to be found. Aside from that, those hours in the dark gave her time to think things through. What if she was able to pass this obstacle? What would happen should she meet brigands, or worse still, what fate would befall her should Sylaise reclaim her after her betrayal?

And so, Morinthe sat at the base of the wall and began to weep, for she knew then that she would be trapped in her beautiful prison forever.

On the other side of the wall there was a shadow. He heard the maiden crying, so he slipped up the stones and crouched atop it.

“I say,” he murmured. “What fiend so vile could bring a lady such as you to tears? Truly he must have hands without warmth, a heart without a soul.”

The maiden quickly wiped her eyes, though there was no hope of hiding her sorrow now. She could not see the face of the man who addressed her, only the bright of his shining eyes. His voice did jest, but there was no cruelty in it. It was odd, actually. For so long she had been met only with condescension; he seemed to be offering sympathy.

“Forgive me, I should keep better control of myself.” Morinthe apologized.

“Ah,” the shadow sneered. “There is no misery to be found in Sylaise’s paradise. Anyone who complains seems to conveniently vanish.”

“Hmm,” the maiden hummed. “They usually know to keep their mouths shut. I am tired of smiling, though.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head. She thought that she caught a glimpse of furry ears.

“I don’t want to be happy all of the time.” she sighed. “They treat me like I’m a fool without a thought or care in the world, and should I ever say otherwise they silence me, say I’m ill or irrational. I want to think and say whatever pleases me, to go as far as I like without any walls in my way. I’m tired of being Sylaise’s pet. I want to be free.”

He was silent then, but she could hear his mind working nevertheless.

“There is no way past the wall, though.” Morinthe bitterly continued. “And even if I got away, she would only take me back. Maybe she’d lock me away somewhere nobody would ever find me again.”

“Is it true what you say?” He finally asked. “Would you be willing to do anything to be free?”

She nodded, hope suddenly blooming in her chest.

“Then listen,” he said. “I have a plan.”

The next morning, the maiden smiled brightly to every noble and peasant that she met, and she even sang again to the goddess, as she had once. All of the kingdom was relieved, for the goddess had been irritable ever since her servant had changed.

“My little songbird,” she sighed. “It warms my old heart to see that you are well again. Bid you tell me, child, what has cured you of your ailment?”

“I cannot be certain,” Morinthe said. “Perhaps it was a foul wind, as sudden in its arrival as it was in its departure, or, if I may say, it was by your divine grace that the fog was lifted.”

This pleased the goddess greatly, and so overjoyed was she that her watchful eye on the maiden was temporarily diverted.

And so it was that the maiden wandered out into a meadow that afternoon and began to pick wild blooms amongst the tall grass. She was certain, however, to remain in clear view of the goddess’ palace and all of her guards.

Sudden as a lightning strike, the air itself was ripped apart, and a great black beast came storming out into the field. Morinthe screamed as the monster snatched her up and dragged her back into the glowing portal from which it had emerged.

All of the kingdom was shocked and distraught over the loss of their dear maiden, and the goddess furiously looked far and wide for the despicable beast. Sylaise had recognized the black wolf to be the dastardly Fen’Harel, the rebel lord of the Fade. He had been her rival for many centuries, and it only made sense that the vile man would steal her most prized possession. She quickly appealed for help from Elgar’nan, for she feared the Fade and its twisting ways.

Little did the Enavuris know, however, the maiden’s screams broke into laughter once they crossed into the Fade. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined being able to get away with such a trick against the goddess herself.

Fen’Harel released Morinthe, and then he twisted back into a man once again. He asked her, “I did not hurt you, did I?”

“I was that convincing, eh?” She snickered. The maiden beamed to him. “That was great fun. We shall have to scheme together again some time.”

“We will have to see how well this one plays out first, little bird.” He said to the maiden with a fond smile, “I do not wish to make you my prisoner, but you must remain here with me for a time. We shall wait for Elgar’nan and Sylaise to give up the chase, and then I will sneak you away to a country far from here, where no one will know your face.”

Morinthe agreed to his plan, and so they traveled together in the Fade for a time. They could never stay in the same place for too long before Elgar’nan would be on their trail again, but this suited the maiden nicely. The Fade was a treasure trove of knowledge and adventure all its own, truly wondrous in its dream-like ambiguity.

Over time, she came to care for the Dread Wolf as well. Unlike the tales she’d heard, he was rather rather gentle and compassionate, if a bit proud. He was a scholar at heart, and he supported her thirst for knowledge rather than admonished it. She admired, as well, his quick wit paired with impassioned ideals. They grew to be fast friends, and he even revealed to her his true name.

“Solas,” she entreated one day.

“Yes lethallan?” He replied.

“Once the Enavuris’ search has ended and I leave, would you come with me?” the maiden asked.

The Dread Wolf was quiet then, and she could read the longing in his eyes. “I did travel the world once, and I do miss it so. There are many more souls, however, that wish to free as yours does. I cannot abandon them.”

“I understand.” she said.

Back in Sylaise’s kingdom, the eternal spring had faded into a bitter darkness. The farmers’ crops had been smothered in feet of ice, and all of the trees were dead and barren. Despite her people’s pleas, the goddess was too sorrowful to bring back the sun.

This spurred Elgar’nan’s hunt all the more, and it became clear that he would come upon the pair soon.

As the raging quakes of his wrath grew close, twisting and setting the Fade a blaze, the trickster crouched behind a set of great, jagged rocks with the maiden. 

“Forgive me,” He said, holding her hand in his. The trickster kissed her knuckles reverently. “You deserve better, truly, but this is all I can do for you.” 

He retrieved from his satchel a pomegranate, and quickly began to feed her its seeds. He managed to give her six before Elgar’nan appeared. The Enavuris ripped the maiden from his arms, and the Dread Wolf was forced to flee before the god’s rage could fall upon him.

The All Father proudly returned the maiden to her home, though she did not seem as glad as she ought. He assumed that the wolf had frightened her so that she had no words of gratitude left to her. Surely, she would be well again once she was safe and in her right place.

Since her return, however, Morinthe’s face turned stony, her songs were only sighs, and she rarely ate anything more than a few grains of rice at a time. Sylaise and all of the kingdom concluded that this could only be the result of whatever horrendous trauma the wretched Dread Wolf had inflicted upon the poor girl.

After a month had passed, Elgar’nan’s anger with Fen’Harel had faded, the girl having been returned. Yes, she was somewhat damaged, but what a was mere month to a god who had lived for thousands of years? The maiden would be set to rights again eventually, so there was no harm done in the Dread Wolf’s little stunt.

And so, when Fen’Harel came to visit Elgar’nan court, he was met only with, at most, mild suspicion.

“Wolf,” The All Father huffed. “I must admire your bravery for coming back to me. Last we saw each other, you were fleeing with your tail between your legs. What brings you to my presence once more?”

“I am here to make a claim, as it is my right by the laws of nature.” He declared, chin held high.

Elgar’nan knew the rebel lord’s ways well enough by now, so he was cautious in his reply. “And what claim is this Fen’Harel?”

“A month prior to this day, I took with me a young woman to the Fade.” The Dread Wolf said. “While she was there, she ate the fruit of that plane. Sylaise has no right to hold her.”

This gave Elgar’nan pause. If what he said was true, then there was nothing the All Father could do to rectify it. Some magics were so ancient and powerful that even the gods themselves were at their mercy. To deny such a thing would disrupt the natural balance of this and every world. He knew better, though, than to simply trust the Dread Wolf at his word, so he summoned Sylaise and the girl to his court.

The maiden was confused, for Sylaise would not tell her the reason for their visit no matter how many times she asked. A quiet hope, however, began to rise in her breast. She knew somehow that her friend was up to something once again. This was only made all the more clear when she arrived at Elgar’nan’s palace, and their eyes met across the Enavuris’ golden throne room.

“The Dread Wolf says that you have consumed food cultivated and plucked from his lands. Is this true?” The All Father asked, his voice booming across the entire great hall.

“Yes.” Morinthe answered softly. Her reply sent gasps rippling throughout all of Elgar’nan’s court. “Six seeds from a pomegranate.”

“Six seeds!” Sylaise scoffed, her elegant lips twisting in rage. “That is nothing! Surely he cannot steal my servant from me on such flimsy grounds!”

Elgar’nan was silent as he considered the issue. After an eternity of baited breath, he said. “It is true what you say, Sylaise, but I cannot risk the repercussions of ignoring this. We shall have to make a compromise.”

Morinthe tried her best to look frightened, she really did, but biting her lip was all she could do to keep from grinning. She glanced to her friend’s face, expecting him to be sporting a smug smirk, only to find him grim. They shared another look, and she understood. They hadn’t won yet.

“The girl has taken six seeds,” Elgar’nan surmised. “So she will stay a month in the Fade for each of those seeds, and she will continue to do so every year. And so, Sylaise, you will not lose your servant, and the natural order will be appeased.”

Though not a perfect ending by any means, this was more than she could’ve hoped for. She would have to withstand Sylaise’s torturously perfect world, yes, but at least she would have a reprieve, something to look forward to through it all.

As they shared their secretively victorious smiles, the maiden wanted nothing more than to throw her arms round his neck and dance like a fool before the entire court. She realized in that moment, more even than she wanted to be free from the goddess, she needed to be with him. But, curse the very stars above, Morinthe could not tell him before Sylaise dragged her away once again.

For all of the six months, the maiden waited, though not in sorrow. She laughed, smiled, and danced as once she would because every breath that passed was another closer to her beloved.

She grew clever in showing her affections, despite the distance between them. Morinthe lingered by the walls at twilight, where she hoped that perhaps he’d be lurking once again, and she sang silly songs to him. Although she could not call him by title, no one in all of Sylaise’s kingdom knew his true name, so she said it over and over in breathless reverence.

Fate had it that his name was pride, and so the people thought she sang of her love of the motherland and the goddess. They pitied her so, for they knew that before long she would be parted from it.

As the day grew nearer, Sylaise started to become sorrowful again. Even though her songbird gleamed brighter than ever, the days started to grow shorter, and the leaves began to shrivel up and fall. Finally, when the time came to let the maiden go, there was a blanket of white covering the ground.

With a glare cold enough to strike most men dead, Sylaise handed off her treasured servant to the wolf. He sent a wicked smirk in return, and he took the maiden’s hand. Tears in her eyes, Morinthe passed into Fen’Harel’s lands once more.

The instant Sylaise and her hoard of followers were out of sight, Morinthe grasped the front of front of his robes and yanked him down toward her waiting lips. Solas was only barely able to let out his surprised yelp before she smothered it. Not one to be bested that easily, he more than returned the favor.

“Ma fen,” she sighed, holding him close. “Did you see the look on her face? It was almost worth all this time for that alone.”

His chest rumbles with hearty laughter. “You are sly as they come. A songbird indeed.”

“I love you,” she hummed, swaying slowly in their embrace. 

“Ar la ma,” he breathed. He tucked a stray lock out of her face. “Ma vhenan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute little short, and an inversion of my favorite problematic Greek Myth.


End file.
